A Quiet Beginning
by often-astray
Summary: When Harry comes down to the 'eighth year' common room in the middle of the night, Draco finds himself in a situation he hadn't dared hope for.


**Title:** A Quiet Beginning  
><strong>Rating:<strong> G  
><strong>Genre:<strong> EWE, Pre-slash  
><strong>Pairing:<strong> H/D  
><strong>Words:<strong> 616  
><strong>Warning:<strong> None  
><strong>Beta:<strong> Nope, all my own mistakes XD  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> Harry Potter is owned by JKR + affiliates  
><strong>Summary:<strong> When Harry comes down to the 'eighth year' common room in the middle of the night, Draco finds himself in a situation he hadn't dared hope for.  
><strong>Notes:<strong> I was reading, like I usually do, and this was inspired by a scene with Harry and Hermione, but of course, it's so much better with Harry and Draco. So this is what I came up with. My first try with first person, and it's oddly in the past tense, so let me know what you think! I hope you like it!

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><p>Harry stumbled down the steps looking as if he hadn't slept a wink. I glanced at the page number of the book I was reading and set it aside, knowing I wouldn't remember it when I picked it up again. When he hesitated I knew he had seen me sitting here and was contemplating going back to his bed, but I waved him over to the couch.<p>

"Good evening, Potter."

"Hullo, Malfoy," and he gave me a once over before taking a small, uncertain step towards me. As if I would leave my comfortable seat to continue our practised avoidance of each other. I studied him blatantly and decided he looked like he hadn't slept for days: dark circles ringed his eye, frown lines had developed in his brow, his mouth perpetually pressed tight, his body seemed thinner than ever.

He was beautiful.

I patted the cushion next to me and picked up my book and turned to a random page. It seemed best to continue the thin veneer of indifference I had placed around me, I had no wish for more violence in my life and I certainly didn't want to start a row at half two in the morning. So I pretended to read about charmed transfigurations and waited.

Soon enough, the weary saviour plopped down beside me and stared at the dying flames in the hearth and let loose all the tension in his body. He rested his head back after a while and closed his eyes. I hadn't turned a single page.

"Nightmares?" I asked lightly, to lessen the shock of broken silence around us. Harry made an obnoxious noise and shook his head.

"Yeah."

The sound of his sigh accompanied the turned page of my book and I risked looking at him. He looked like he would fall asleep sitting here in an awkward, uncomfortable slump. I rolled my eyes at him, not that he could see, and lay the book to balance precariously on the arm of the couch. He jumped when he felt my hand on his shoulder and looked sharply at me, but I supposed he found something in my expression that let him accept this. A questioning look was sent my way and I gripped a little tighter to draw him down.

For some reason known only to him, Harry allowed this and he fell, somewhat gracefully, to lay his head in my lap. The fact that his legs were still facing forward didn't justify movement as we stared at each other for the longest time. No, I didn't know what I was doing, but it felt right and I suppose being surrounded by all these Gryffindors had conditioned me to giving into my occasional flights of fancy. A little murmur of relief drifted to my ears and Harry closed his eyes and drew up his legs to spread across the couch.

I picked up my book again, opened to another random page, and acted like this scene didn't set my heart to pounding a staccato beat that I could have sworn was heard in the dormitories. Harry shifted and turned to his side with another little sigh and I couldn't stop my hand from drifting down to run my fingers through his soft hair, my nails just barely scratching across his scalp.

Hands came up to encircle my knee and draw my thigh closer to him. Any tension left in his body melted away with the evening of his breath and Harry Potter was asleep with his head in my lap.

I didn't stop the rhythm of my hand until I too fell asleep and left my fingers tangled through his hair.


End file.
